The Boy With The Bread
by UrbanLegend645
Summary: Madge drags Katniss on a double date with Rye and Peeta Mellark. Mostly Peeta/Katniss. Some Katniss/Gale. Eventually Madge/Gale. Takes place one year before the reaping in the first book. Generally a lighthearted story with a little angst here and there!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games. But if I did, it would probably involve a lot of eating instead of a lot of killing. Cause I love food.**

**Author's Note: I know everyone's probably thinking _This isn't a Harry Potter story!_ Well, you're right. Turns out I read other books, too. This is my first try at a Hunger Games fanfic, so be a little nice =P The beginning of this story takes place one year before the reaping in the first book. It also features a slightly bolder Peeta - the way I think he should have been written to begin with. Basically, he's just not such a whimp. It's rated T, but consider it a STRONG T. I certainly don't think it needs to be rated M, but there will be language and sexual activity in this story. Could possibly change to M later. Anyway, give it a try. We'll meet up at the end.**

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**Katniss**

The melodious birdsongs that drift over the forest-green pines; the rustle of a rabbit as it scurries through the brush; the soft snap of a twig as my foot treads across it – I know that this is where I belong. I inhale deeply, the scent of bark and pine needles wafting through my senses, and close my eyes. It's here that I thrive. I am at one with these woods – I can relate to the mockingjay that flies free over the land far better than I could any person. The woods are my sanctuary – they are devoid of people…

"Hey Catnip!"

Well, except for one. But Gale might as well be classified as a part of the woods as well. My eyes flutter open to see his tall, handsome figure weaving through the trees toward me. I'm not surprised that he's here – this is _our_ spot. I smile at him as he nears me, and he smiles back. I know that we're both thinking the same thing.

_One more year._

One more year to hunt. One more year to provide for our families, so that they don't starve through the winter. One more year to _live_.

The reaping took place yesterday. And Gale and I are still here. It's a sad kind of happiness, because District 12 still sent their sacrifices off to the Capitol to face their certain deaths. But it wasn't us. That was reason enough to be thankful.

_One more year._

"Catch anything?" I ask.

"Did I catch anything?" he repeats sarcastically and tosses his game bag on the ground. It lands with a heavy thump that causes me to grin. "You doubted me?" he responds.

"Never. How many?"

"Just a couple squirrels," he shrugs, crouching down. "And a rabbit. And of course some strawberries. You?"

"Two turkeys," I inform him. "But they're small."

"They'll still sell."

I nod, and reach down to grab my bow from where and quiver and proceed to hide them in a hollow log. "We should get going," I say, looking at Gale. "We should get the squirrels to the baker's before it gets too late."

Gale agrees and stuffs his catches back in his bag. He rises and takes the lead, and I follow him back to the fence. Anyone else might get lost in the woods, but Gale and I know our way. We don't get lost.

The fence looms before us in no time, and we cross it easily. My trained eyes scan the surrounding area for peacekeepers, but there are none. Half of them trade with us, anyway.

We cross the meadow on the far side of town and pick up a jog, loping in the direction of the merchant's shops. People are still bustling about in front of the bakery. Gale and I brush past them and slip unnoticed down the back alleyway. We reach the back entrance to the bakery and Gale's knuckles rap on the door.

We have to wait for a moment, but it eventually swings open. Gale nods in greeting and steps inside. I follow him and turn to say hello to the baker as I pass him – except it isn't the baker. It's _him. _

The boy with the bread.

I hesitate as his blue eyes meet mine, and he offers me a smile. "Katniss," he says, a friendly tone to his voice. I don't return his greeting. I nod at him like Gale did and rush past, standing a little closer to Gale than I normally would. Gale is safe.

Gale looks down at me as my arm bumps against his, raising an eyebrow, and I avert my gaze. I hear the door that we entered through click closed, and all too soon _he's_ standing right in front of me. I turn my head to glance around the bakery, feigning interest in the sugar cookies to my right.

In reality, I'm looking at anything but Peeta Mellark.

Thankfully, Gale does the talking. "Is Mr. Mellark around?"

I see Peeta shake his head and run a hand through his messy blonde hair out of the corner of my eye. "He had to run to the tailors. Just left a few minutes ago. Do you have squirrels?"

"Four," Gale informs him.

"Just lay them on the table next to you," Peeta responds, pointing at a surface to our right before turning and stepping further into the kitchen. By the time Gale's dispensed the game on the table, Peeta is pushing a paper bag into his hands. "Here you go."

Gale's eyes widen the moment the bag touches his hands. "These are warm." My eyebrows rise in surprise. The baker never traded us for warm bread – I wouldn't expect him to, because freshly baked bread is more expensive.

"Bread's better when it's warm," Peeta responds simply, and I can't tell if he's being sarcastic.

Gale doesn't seem to think that it's funny, and frowns. "We can't take this. It's not a fair trade. Stale bread is fine."

"The squirrels are fatter than usual," Peeta shrugged, meeting Gale's gaze.

Gale doesn't argue, because he knows that it's true. He passes the paper bag to me and places a hand on my back, guiding me toward the door. "Thanks," he says, nodding once more to Peeta.

Peeta returns the gesture. "Anytime. Dad wouldn't want to pass up a chance to trade for squirrel." I risk a glance over my shoulder at him, and he cracks a smile. "Thanks Gale. Katniss." His eyes meet mine again as he says my name. "I'll see you around." And with that, he retreats into the kitchen. My gaze lingers for a moment on his back, but I quickly turn and escape the bakery through the back door.

The moment we're in the alley once more, Gale grabs my arm and spins me toward him. "What was that about?" I know he's questioning my strange actions within the bakery.

"Nothing," I respond, shaking my head. I turn away from him, and he knows he won't get anything out of me. I hear him sigh and follow me.

The truth is I can't tell Gale. I tell Gale _everything_, but I just can't tell him about the boy with the bread. Nobody but me will ever know that Peeta Mellark saved my life. I was cold and starving, and a twelve year old Peeta risked the wrath of his mother to feed me. I still don't know why he did it, but I owe him more than I'll ever be able to give.

Why is it, then, that I can't even say two words to him? I have a few theories, of course. They all revolve around the fact that I _hate_ owing anybody _anything_. I hate accepting help. And I've owed Peeta Mellark for the past four years without offering him so much as a thank you. Sometimes I wonder if he even remembers. I don't like him or detest him, but being around him hurts my pride.

I focus again on the present, and look at Gale. "I'm going to Madge's. Do you want to swap bags? The mayor probably wants the strawberries. And I think he likes rabbits."

"Good idea," he agrees. His hand reaches over and grabs the strap of my bag, lifting it over my head. A split second later, his own bag is draped over my right shoulder. I grin at him and we walk the rest of the way in silence. We reach a fork in the road, and after a quick goodbye Gail takes the left road, toward the Seam, and I take the right.

Before long, the Mayor's house looms before me. It's large, easily the most impressive building in District 12 aside from the Justice Building. I make my way to the door and knock. It opens instantly to reveal a thin figure with long, blonde hair and a bright smile.

"Katniss!" Madge exclaims, opening the door wider. "Come on in. I was starting to wonder if you were still coming."

I return her smile easily. Madge is one of the few people that evoke such a positive response from me. She's the only girl that I'm friends with. Well, actually, aside from Gale she's the only _person_ that I'm friends with. I'm not complaining, of course. Madge and I get along really well, even if she _is_ a little more giddy than me.

"I brought you strawberries," I say as I step into the house. "And a rabbit."

"Oh, wonderful!" she says, brushing past me into the kitchen. "Just set them there on the counter – no, not the rabbit!" I watch in amusement as she opens a cupboard and pulls out a roll of paper. She rips a piece off and lays it down on the counter. "Put the rabbit _there_."

I comply, emptying my bag, and then follow her into the sitting room. I know that she'll repay me for the food before I leave. I take a seat on one of the soft armchairs, curling my legs beneath me and Madge doesn't hesitate to sit on the floor in front of me with her back resting against the chair.

"Braid my hair," she demands, causing me to laugh.

"A bit bossy, aren't we?" I tease her.

She turns her head to grin at me. "Well, I _am_ the mayor'sdaughter. You have to listen to me. Now, braid!"

I almost roll my eyes as she tilts her head back so that her hair falls into my lap. "Fine," I say, feigning a sigh. My hands reach forward and take hold of a few sections of silky, golden hair near her forehead. "But no complaints if I pull too hard."

"Fair enough!" she says, smiling. We sit in silence for a while, my hands working in a weaving motion through her hair. It's not as intricate as my mother's braiding, but it still looks nice. Although I'm not sure if Madge's hair could look anything but nice, no matter what I do to it. It shines and sparkles, and complements her blue eyes perfectly.

"Did you know them?" My hands still in response to the question. Madge inclines her head a few inches, and I can see that she isn't smiling now. I know that she's referring to the tributes that were reaped yesterday.

"The boy," I say quietly as I return to deftly braiding Madge's hair. "I've never talked to him, but he's in Prim's… Prim's class…"

I trail off, thinking of my little sister. She's eleven yet, so her name wasn't in the reaping yesterday. Next year, that won't be the case. I can't even bear to think about it.

"He's only twelve," I continue, my voice gaining an edge of anger. "He'll be slaughtered."

Madge nods, remaining silent. I hear her sigh, and I know she feels the same. "It's a shame," she finally says. Her voice is tense, and I feel connected to her in that moment. She's a good person. "I'm sorry I brought it up," she says. "There's nothing we can do about it, now. Let's talk about something more pleasant."

More pleasant… it almost makes me laugh. What could possibly be pleasant in a world that forces children to fight to the death? It's not just an execution – it's torture. I keep my thoughts to myself, and focus more diligently on Madge's hair. She accepts the silence easily. That's part of the reason I like her.

Finally, I tie off the end of the braid and observe my handiwork. It's not the same as my braid, and only makes use of the hair on the top half of her head. The rest still hangs loose. I'm surprised at how nice it looks. "All done," I say.

Madge immediately springs up and rushes to the nearest mirror. "Oh, Katniss!" she exclaims from across the room. Her enthusiasm makes me smile.

"It didn't turn out half bad," I agree.

"Half bad?" she scoffs, returning to me. "It's beautiful!"

"I'm glad you like it."

She returns to me and takes a seat in the armchair next to mine, crossing one leg over the other. "Katniss, can I tell you something?"

My first reaction is concern. What does she need to tell me? Are we in some kind of trouble? My panic fades instantly as I see the excited expression on her face. I furrow my brow slightly in confusion, but say, "Of course."

"If I tell you, will you take it seriously?"

"Why wouldn't I?" I ask, tilting my head curiously at her.

"Because it's… oh, Katniss, it's about a boy – don't you dare laugh, either!"

"A boy?" I repeat, looking at her like she'd grown two heads. I must have heard her wrong. Madge is like me. She doesn't talk about boys.

"Yes, a boy," she said, wringing her hands gently together.

I hadn't heard her wrong. Talking about boys… well, talking about boys in _that_ way, is far outside of my comfort zone. But, Madge has been such a good friend to me over the years, so I have no choice but to respond. "Which one?"

I see a grin spread across her face as I begrudgingly continue the conversation. "Rye Mellark."

I'm caught off guard by the sound of _Mellark_, but quickly recover. I know that Peeta has two brothers. Rye is Gale's age. I find my voice. "Really? Rye?"

"Yes. Rye," she confirms, nodding her head.

"I didn't know that you and Rye talked," I say to her, raising an eyebrow.

She gives me a slightly distressed look. "Well, that's just it… we don't. Not really. I mean, of course I've spoken to him before, but not for more than a few minutes."

"Then how do you know that you like him?" I ask her, frowning. I'm surprised to find that I'm actually interested in the answer to this question.

"I don't know," she said, shrugging. "He's always been nice when I've bumped into him. He's really funny, too! Not to mention, he's nice to look at." She finished her sentence with a giggle. I think I'm still staring at her like she has two heads. "Oh, come on, Katniss!" she says. "You mean to tell me that you've never found_ anyone_ attractive? What about Gale?"

"Gale's my friend," I protest.

"That doesn't mean you can't think he's attractive," she points out. I don't respond, though I know that she's right. She shakes her head incredulously at me. "Well, anyway," she says, brushing forward in the conversation. "I only brought all this up because I need to ask you a favor."

"You need to ask me a favor about Rye?" I question. I can't see where this is going.

"Yes," she says simply. "I want to ask Rye over. Will you come?"

"Me, you and Rye?" I say doubtfully. I may be a little socially awkward, but I know enough to realize that wouldn't be much fun for any of us.

"Of course not," she said, laughing. "I was hoping you could bring Gale, too."

"Gale doesn't like Rye," I respond quickly, before she can get ahead of herself. "They don't get along at all."

"Really?" she says questioningly. "I didn't know that. Why don't they like each other?"

"I'm not really sure," I shrug. "Gale always calls him an ass when he gets brought up. They ignore each other when we trade at the bakery."

"Oh," she says, her face falling slightly. "I was really hoping that you'd be able to come. I'd be a lot more comfortable with you there."

"I'm sorry, Madge." And I really am. I wouldn't have minded, if Gale was there.

It's only a moment before her eyes light up again, and I brace myself for what she's about to say. I have an odd feeling it won't be to my liking.

"Katniss…" she says slowly, looking into my eyes. Yep, she's definitely going to ask me to do something that I won't want to do. She knows it. She goes on anyway. "Why don't you still join us? Just bring a different boy – "

"No way, Madge," I respond quickly, shaking my head. "First of all, there isn't a single boy that I'm comfortable around other than Gale. Second of all, there isn't a single boy that's comfortable around _me_ except Gale."

I see her smile. Apparently I haven't managed to deter her. "There has to be _someone_," she says, touching a finger to her cheek in thought. Suddenly, her grin widens. "I know!" she exclaims. "Katniss, what about Peeta?"

I feel myself freeze at her suggestion. "Absolutely not," I say. That _cannot_ happen.

"But why not?" she asks, her eyes meeting mine. "What's wrong with Peeta? I think it's a great idea! Peeta's one of my friends, Katniss. He's Rye's brother and he's a really nice guy. Not to mention he's quite the looker." She doesn't giggle like she did when describing Rye. "And he gets along with just about anyone. He even talks to _you_ sometimes."

"Barely," I respond, trying my best to escape the corner she's backing me into. "Only when I trade with the baker."

"Katniss," she says firmly, reaching over the arm of her chair to grab my hand. "Katniss, I'm begging you. Please, _please_ do this for me! Just this once, and I swear I'll never ask you for anything ever again."

I can't believe Madge is doing this to me. I shoot her my most lethal glare, but I know it's no use. She'll just pester me until I say yes. With a frustrated sigh, I begrudgingly admit defeat.

"I can't believe you're going to make me do this," I growl, ripping my hand away from her and crossing my arms across my chest.

Her eyes widen as she realizes that I've surrendered. "Thank you, Katniss!" she exclaims, grinning from ear to ear. "It won't be so bad, I promise. You might be surprised. Maybe you'll even have fun… imagine that – _you_ actually having _fun _for once."

I send her another glare, although I know she's teasing. Part of me is petrified that I've gotten pulled into this situation. Seeing Peeta outside of trading and school is the most terrible idea, yet Madge is going to make it happen. "When?" I ask her, my voice still grumpy.

"After school on Friday!" she says happily. "I'll cook us a meal. Maybe we'll watch a movie on the projector. It will be fun, Katniss, you'll see."

"Wonderful."

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**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Alright! Anyone make it this far? I hope so! I had fun writing this, and I'm looking forward to continuing it. This chapter seemed pretty basic, but I assure you there will be much Peeta/Katniss to come! If you enjoyed it, hated it, or are somewhere in the middle, please REVIEW and let me know what you think! It's not that hard, and it really helps me become better as a writer. Plus, it absolutely makes my day to read your reviews, because I'm weird like that. So yeah, REVIEW! **

**I'll let you guys go now. See you next chapter. Happy Reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Author's Note: Thanks to those of you who reviewed and followed/favorited! Let's just get right to it, shall we? We'll catch up at the end.**

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**Katniss**

My lids flutter open to the song of a bird perched outside my window. I lay in my bed a few minutes longer than I normally would, listening to the soft, whistled melody. A yawn escapes my mouth, and I decide to sit up and stretch. My legs swing over the side of the bed, and my feet find the floor. Then I remember.

_Damn it_. It's Friday.

I've been absolutely _dreading_ Friday. I even tried to change my mind – three times! But Madge wouldn't hear of it.

"I've already asked them!" she reminded me each time I tried to get out of this incredibly torturous situation. "They're looking forward to it."

Madge hadn't wasted any time once I'd agreed, and had invited the Mellark brothers to her house the very morning after our discussion. That's likely because she knew I'd take it back if given the chance. I've naturally refused to say more than one word at a time to her throughout the week… which might be satisfying if Madge seemed to care. Instead, she seems more giddy than usual and refuses to be put off by my sour demeanor.

With a sigh, I push myself up from my bed and make my way to the small chest of drawers that houses my clothes. I don't even know what to wear. _Why does it matter?_ I don't know the answer to my own question. It shouldn't matter.

Still, I rummage through my clothes until I find a decent pair of hunting pants and a clean forest green shirt. I slip into the clothes and instantly reach my hands up to twist my hair into its typical braid. They work by habit, tucking and weaving strands in and out.

I slip out of my room and make my way to the kitchen where I find Prim already waiting for me, her golden hair tied into two pigtails. I smile at her and smooth out a bit of her hair as I pass her. I pull my leather boots onto my feet and lace them.

"Ready to go?" I ask Prim. In truth, I'm not ready to go. I wish desperately that I could play sick today, but I know Madge would see right through it. And besides, I don't actually want to ruin anything for her. Prim nods and hops down from her chair, and we make our way out the door.

We chat easily as we walk to school. When we arrive, I follow Prim to her classroom before making my way to my own. I have math first, and I take my usual seat in the back. Before long, Madge joins me. She turns toward me in her seat, her eyes full of excitement.

"Katniss, thank you for doing this for me. I owe you," she whispers.

"You more than owe me," I remind her, glaring at her.

"Oh, will you lighten up? It's just one evening. Anyway, I wanted to tell you that Peeta and Rye are going to walk us to my house after school. Isn't that great of them? We're going to meet in the square after the whistle."

I shake my head, but not in irritation this time. "I have to take Prim home, first." I contemplate the idea of just staying home with Prim. It might be my only chance to escape.

"Oh, that's right," Madge says, pursing her lips in thought. "Well, that's okay. You'll just have to meet us after. I think I can handle them both for a little while," she grins, causing me to nearly roll my eyes at her. "I'm just saying that I wouldn't complain about it, that's all," she shrugs her shoulders, laughing.

"I see." Since when did Madge have these thoughts about boys? She'd never shown them until now.

A few more people enter the room and take seats in the front, and I make the mistake of glancing up and realizing that one of them is him. I catch his eye by accident and quickly look away. For a moment, I wonder what he thinks of the get together that Madge has arranged. He's known about if for several days, but hasn't brought it up or attempted to speak to me about it. I'm glad. I don't know what I would say if he did.

Our teacher calls class to order, causing Madge to stop whispering to me. I'm secretly glad. I'm not sure that I could have taken any more talk about the torture that I'll be going through in just a few hours. I internally hope that school drags on today. But, of course, it doesn't. In no time at all, I hear the whistle that dismisses us. I rise and escape from the room as quickly as I can. I make my way to the spot where I meet Prim and see that she's already waiting for me.

I reach for her hand. She takes it and we walk together back toward the seam. Every day, on our walk home, we pass the bakery. And every day, Prim begs me to look at the cakes and cookies through the window. I always give in, and today is no different. We stop outside the first window and Prim all but presses her nose up against it.

"How was school?" I ask her while she's admiring the frosted cookies.

"Not bad," she says, her free hand twiddling with one of her braids. "I had a writing test today."

"Oh? And how'd you do?"

"Katniss, it's _writing_. It was _easy_," she informs me, shaking her head as though my question was unnecessary.

I laugh. "Alright, alright, I'm only asking!"

"Well, it was a stupid question," she responds, looking up at me in amusement.

"What was a stupid question?" A voice to my left causes me to jump, and I turn quickly to see who it belongs to. My muscles tense as I catch sight of his blue eyes, and my grip on Prim's hand tightens. I'm sure she notices, because she looks up at me, but she doesn't say anything. Isn't he supposed to be with Madge and Rye? He's waiting for an answer, and before I can choke one out Prim speaks up.

"Katniss asked if I passed my writing test," she responds easily, giggling as though his presence isn't a strange occurrence at all. "But of course I passed it. I got the best marks in class."

"Best marks in class?" he repeats, turning his attention to my little sister. He squats down so that he's closer to her height, bracing his elbows on his knees, and smiles. "That's impressive. I think that deserves a little celebration, don't you?"

Peeta fishes into his pocket and pulls out a small, flat parcel wrapped in paper. He extends his arm toward Prim, and she takes it from him gingerly. Her eyes widen as she unwraps it, and a huge smile spreads across her face.

"Katniss, look!" she exclaims, holding up what he handed to her so that I can see. It's a frosted cookie cut in the shape of a flower, and is every bit as beautiful as the ones in the window that Prim admires each and every day. I can see the excitement plastered on her face.

"That's really pretty, Prim," I say to her, finally finding my voice. "Just like you. Did you say thank you?"

"I was going to!" she says, and I watch on in amazement as she turns back toward Peeta and throws her little arms around his neck. "Thank you!" she exclaims, grinning from ear to ear. I'm not sure if he knows just how happy his gift has made her.

He wraps one arm around Prim in response as though he's known her all his life. In reality, this is the first time he's ever spoken to her. I take advantage of his momentary distraction, using it to let my eyes linger on his broad figure that's now embracing my sister. I don't know how to react.

"Did you make them?" Prim asks him when he releases her, holding the cookie near to her face so that she can admire it up close. She's only ever seen them through the window.

Peeta nods, still crouched down. "Every last one," he responds. "I decorated everything in the window."

"Wow, really?" I can hear the amazement in her voice. I'm surprised, too, but I don't voice my thoughts. "They're all beautiful. Katniss and I stop to look at them every day on our way home from school! Don't we, Katniss?" She pulls me back into the conversation, and I have no choice but to answer her.

"That's right," I agree, because there's nothing else I can do. "Prim, we should get going. You're supposed to help mom with some patients this afternoon, remember?"

"Oh, that's right! Thanks again for the cookie!" she beams.

I take Prim's hand, and just when I'm certain that we'll escape he says something unexpected.

"I'll walk with you."

I halt in my tracks, turning to look at him incredulously. "Why?" I ask bluntly, frowning. I'm not sure what's going on.

"That depends," he responds. "Do you want the real answer or the fake one?"

"Now _that's_ a stupid question," I retort.

"Well, if you must know, Madge sent me to, and I quote, make sure that you don't escape," he said, shrugging.

"Of course she did," I huff, crossing my arms across my chest. "Well, you can go tell Madge that I don't need an escort."

"You can tell her that when we get there," he responds, "because she also told me that if I show up without you she'll give my share of dinner to Rye. I'll walk with you." He repeats his earlier statement.

"Great!" Prim exclaims before I have a chance to say no again. She grabs his hand and drags him forward, skipping along next to him.

_Oh Prim, why are you so friendly?_ I think, holding back a groan. I sigh and fall in step beside them. Thankfully, Prim does all the talking, asking Peeta all about the bakery.

"But how do you get all those _colors_?" I hear her question, and I can see that she's hanging on the answer as though her life depended on it.

"It's not hard," he tells her. "You just mix some food coloring into it. For the really bright reds and purples you actually mix the icing with berry juice – I could teach you sometime, if you want."

"Oh, would you?" she exclaims, staring at him with wide eyes. I'm starting to worry that Prim's going to go into shock from all this extra excitement. Peeta just laughs and tells her that he'd be happy to.

Finally, we enter the Seam, and I might be content if I could dart into the house like Prim does. Instead, I have to accompany Peeta back into town, and this time I won't have the help of my little sister. Yes, I realize how pathetic that sounds, but I don't care. I don't know how to react to the boy with the bread.

I notice that he's gazing interestedly around as we take the east road out of the Seam. I realize after a moment that he's probably never been here before. After all, what reason would a merchant have to wander through the poorest area of district twelve? I'm mildly impressed that his expression is one of interest rather than one of disgust.

We walk in silence for some time. It feels awkward to me, but I get the feeling that Peeta doesn't feel awkward at all. "You're sister's nice," he comments easily as pass into the merchant district.

Well, I suppose if I have to talk, Prim is the easiest subject for me to discuss. "You made her day," I tell him. "Giving her that frosted cookie."

"I always see her staring at them," he laughs.

"You didn't have to do that," I say.

He shrugs in a nonchalant kind of way. "I wanted to."

I don't answer. I'm glad that Prim's happy, of course. But this only means that I owe him one more thing. I'm relieved when he doesn't try to pull me into further conversation. Finally we arrive at Madge's, and as much as I've been dreading this, I'm glad that I at least won't have to be alone with Peeta any longer. Suddenly, it makes sense that she wanted me to join her and Rye in the first place.

"Well it's about time!" Madge exclaims as she opens the door to let us in. "Thanks for watching her, Peeta."

"I don't need watching – "

"Happy to help," he responds lightly, cutting me off. He steps past both me and Madge, leaving us standing at the door.

I shoot her a glare the moment his back is turned. "Why did you do that?" I hiss at her.

"Do what?" she asks innocently.

"You know what."

"Because you wouldn't have come," she says simply.

She knows me too well. I let out a frustrated breath and follow her inside.

"I figured Rye would be by the food," I hear Peeta say from inside, and as I pass into the house I catch sight of Rye Mellark stuffing a handful of strawberries in his mouth. I might be tempted to laugh if I wasn't so irritated with the situation.

The Mellark brothers look extremely alike – fair skin, blonde hair, blue eyes. The only real difference is that while Peeta is broad, Rye is lean like Gale.

"Ah, there she is!" Rye exclaims the moment he sees me. "The bearer of squirrels. I owe many a good meal to you, Miss Everdeen."

I hesitate, because Rye has never spoken to me before, but words form more easily than when Peeta addresses me. After all, I don't owe Rye Mellark anything. "Including those strawberries," I say.

"What?" he questions, gazing down at the bowl of fresh strawberries in mock awe. "Do my ears deceive me? Katniss Everdeen, bearer of squirrels, has also picked these delicious berries? I'm impressed – a girl of many talents."

"Actually, Gale picked them," I tell him, raising an eyebrow at his eccentric manner.

"Did I say delicious?" he says. "I meant to say sickening. Sorry about that."

Amazingly, I feel a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. I decide that I like Rye. Madge quickly jumps in and shoos us all to the table. She's cooked the rabbit that I traded her into a stew, and serves us each a bowl and some bread.

"Peeta and Rye are to thank for the bread, of course!" she informs me, smiling.

I manage to make it through dinner without having to say much. Rye does most of the talking. I avoid talking to Peeta, because it makes me uncomfortable. I'm not sure if he notices. He doesn't seem to, instead adding in his own comments in response to whatever Rye says. As a pair, they're actually very funny. I also notice that Madge and Peeta seem to be good friends. I've never seen them interact before, but it's obvious that they're comfortable around each other. He teases her every now and then and she smacks his arm in response.

"That was excellent," Rye announces when he finishes, pushing his bowl away from him and leaning back in his chair.

"Katniss brought me the rabbit," Madge informs him, smiling and taking his plate into the kitchen.

Rye turns his gaze on me and looks like he's about to over-compliment me again. Before he has a chance to call me the bearer of rabbits, or something like that, I tell him, "Gale caught the rabbit."

The speed with which his expression falls nearly makes me laugh. "Of course he did," he glowers, sighing. He then throws me off guard by asking, "You guys are kind of a thing, huh?"

"What?" I say, furrowing my brow. "Me and Gale?" I notice Peeta's eyes flick toward me interestedly, his smile faltering only slightly. Why would it matter to him? He doesn't say anything, but Rye does.

"Yes, you and Gale," he says. "You're always together. The girls at school are always complaining about it. They're always gushing over him." I can hear the slight irritation in Rye's voice, although I feel certain that if I spoke to any girls besides Madge they'd be gushing about Rye just as much as Gale.

To my surprise, I feel an uncomfortable heat rise up my neck when he mentions the girls that pine after Gale. I faintly recognize it as jealousy, but push it aside because it doesn't make sense. Why should I be jealous? "We're not a… a _thing_." I inform him, frowning. I still feel Peeta's eyes on me, but I don't meet them.

"Of course not!" Madge jumps in, saving me from certain humiliation. "I'd know about it, if so." She brushes off the topic easily. "I want to go out into the garden."

I'm surprised to see that the sun is near to the horizon when we step out of the house. The sky is strewn with hues of red and orange. I'm surprised to see that Peeta's eyes are drawn straight to it, a look of small wonder on his face. Rye is the last to escape the house, and the moment he does he takes Madge's hand, pulling her toward the far corner of the garden. She shoots me an apologetic look over her shoulder and goes with him. I know that I'm not supposed to follow them.

I make my way toward the garden fence, away from Rye and Madge, and lean my arms on it. I wonder if I can leave now – Madge doesn't seem to need me anymore. Lost in thought, contemplating my potential escape, I don't notice him join me until his arm brushes against mine.

I flinch at his touch, but he doesn't seem to notice, and he doesn't move away. He leans against the fence next tome. He's much too close to me, and I feel warmth rise on my cheeks. He acts as though he hasn't done anything abnormal, and I don't distance myself simply to avoid making the situation any more awkward than it already feels.

"It's my favorite color," he says. His voice is soft and relaxed, and it draws my attention. My eyes shift to look at him, but he isn't looking at me. He's still looking at the sky.

"What is?" I ask him, not sure what he means.

"The sunset," he says simply without looking at me.

I furrow my brow in confusion. "The sunset is your favorite color?"

"Mhm. What's yours?"

I hesitate before answering, but finally say "green." It feels too simple compared to his, but to my surprise the corners of his mouth turn up in a smile.

"Why do you avoid me, Katniss?"

The question throws me off guard and causes my chest to contract, and I look away from him. I remain silent for some time before I finally force out "I don't avoid you."

Peeta laughs. "Of course you do. You won't even look at me. Every time I talk to you, you hardly respond."

He's right of course. He doesn't seem angry – just curious. I can't answer him, so I just say, "Why do you talk to me?"

"I talk to everybody," he says, shrugging.

"I'm not like everybody," I say quietly, looking at my hands.

I feel his eyes on me before he says, "True. _That's_ why I talk to _you_. Or try to, at least."

His response intrigues me, and I risk a glance at his face. My eyes meet his, and for once I make an effort to hold the contact. He looks so calm, so relaxed. I wonder if I look as uncomfortable as I feel. I'm not sure what makes me bring it up – perhaps it's his kind blue eyes gazing so easily into my own – but before I can stop myself, the words tumble out. "Why did you do it?" I wish I could take it back.

It's clear that he knows what I'm asking – I can see in his face that he does, in fact, remember the bread. "Because you needed it," he responded. "Because I could."

Like I said before, being around Peeta Mellark severely hurts my pride. Now, it's particularly wounded as he points out that I needed him. "You burned it on purpose," I say.

He nods. "Yes. It was worth it."

"Why?" I find that I need to know his answer.

"Because you're still here," he says, shrugging, as though it's the simplest answer in the world. I can almost picture Prim in my mind informing me that my question was stupid. "Did you mean it before? When you said you aren't with Gale?"

I don't see why this matters either, but I answer him. "Of course I meant it. Why would I lie?" I respond.

He nods and falls silent. His eyes return to the sky, and I wonder what's going through his mind. Why does he care if I'm still here? Why does he care if I'm with Gale? Suddenly, I'm extremely aware of where our arms are touching. To my confusion there's a part of me that enjoys the sensation of his skin brushing gently against mine when he shifts his weight. How does he not even notice?

Before I can think about it in too much detail, Madge and Rye join us. I turn quickly as I hear them approaching, breaking the miniscule contact between Peeta and I. Madge is trying and failing to hide the grin on her face. Her fingers are still laced between Rye's.

"Peeta, we should probably get back to the bakery. Mom's expecting us."

I watch as Peeta's face stiffens slightly at the word _Mom_, and I can't help remembering the bruises he used to come to school with when he was younger. It only lasts half a second before his face relaxes again. I wonder if I imagined it – I just can't picture Peeta angry. He seems to… well, too _good_ for that.

"You're right," he says, nodding. He turns to Madge, offering her a smile. "Thank you for dinner – although I'm sure my brother's thank you was better," he adds with a smirk. Madge blushes a light shade of red, but Rye just catches his brother's eye and grins. I just shake my head, not really wanting to think about it.

"No, thank you for joining us!" Madge says sincerely. "See you around?"

"Definitely," Rye tells her, releasing her hand and heading toward the garden gate that leads to the road. Peeta follows him, but not before catching my eye and offering me a smile. I'm frustrated when it sends a wave of warmth through my body.

Madge and I watch until the brothers are out of sight. The moment they are, she rounds on me. "He likes you," she says boldly, grinning at me.

"Of course he doesn't," I tell her, shaking my head. "He just didn't want to bother you guys."

"Oh, Katniss, you're a smart girl, but you're very naïve."

I sigh and have to stop myself from rolling my eyes at her. "Just remember that you owe me for this. I have to get home and make sure that Prim's had dinner. I'm hunting tomorrow, so I'll be by to trade."

"Will you be trading at the bakery tomorrow, too?" she asks me, grinning slyly.

This is going to get old fast. "Yes, _Gale_ and I will probably trade with _Mr. Mellark_ tomorrow, and that's only if we catch any squirrels."

"Mhm," she says, and I can see that she's not convinced. I don't feel like spending my evening attempting to change her mind, so I thank her for dinner and say goodbye. On my way through the garden gate, I hear her call after me. "Say hello to Peeta for me when you see him, Katniss!"

I don't answer her. This is going to get very old, very fast.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Once again, I hope you guys made it this far. And once again, if you did, PLEASE REVIEW! This story is kind of a _just for fun _one for me, but I live to read your reviews and the more I receive, the more consistent I'll be about working on it. Hope this chapter is decent for you guys. I promise you all, the Peeta/Katniss fluff is to come, as is some Peeta/Katniss/Gale conflict. But that's a bit later. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE leave your reviews! Let me know what you think! Thanks for those of you that gave this a shot. Happy reading =)**


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